Surrender
by Dark Puck
Summary: One human's attempt to avoid assimilation into the Smith Entity doesn't work out quite the way she planned. OneShot.


_Author's Notes: This little one-shot can be considered mildly AU and is intended to be a follow up to _Hypnos_, as well as _Virii _by The Hyper Angel. It is best if you read these two stories first, in that order._

"SURRENDER"

Dark Puck

She wasn't certain when the rain had started, nor did she particularly care. She had long since fled indoors, hoping to avoid the attention of the Smiths. It occurred to Lezvie that, were they to turn their attention to her, she just might be the only victim who knew their name.

Thus far, however, the young assassin had been lucky. The Smiths hadn't noticed her when she slipped inside the office building now shielding her from the rain, and they hadn't yet seen her in the window high above the street. Lezvie, however, was no fool; as soon as she heard the door behind her open, she whirled and opened fire on the suited man who had just entered.

This was, as it turned out, useless. The man seemed to split at the waist into five different torsos, each nearly blurring with the other as they wove to avoid her bullets. She ceased fire the minute she realised it was useless, tensing as she recognised the man's face. While it wasn't a Smith, he _was_ another of the three who had initially hired her to kill Morpheus. She took a step backward as he closed the door, feeling her back press against the window_. No way out…_

She didn't know what it was about these suited men that triggered such a primal fear in her.

The man tilted his head slightly as he regarded her before asking in flawless – and utterly accentless – Russian, "You did not empty your clip. Why?"

It was not a question the assassin had expected. Lezvie boggled at him for a moment, then recovered herself and answered, "No sense in wasting bullets." He nodded slightly, then held out his hand. She sighed and surrendered her weapon, twitching slightly despite its uselessness. "Who _are_ you?" she asked.

A slight pause, then, "Once I was known as Brown. That will do."

Her eyes narrowed as she looked him over; it seemed to her as though something had changed since she had last encountered him. Then it clicked – he no longer wore an earpiece. Just like the Smiths…

She didn't change her facial expression, but Brown smiled slightly anyway. "You are observant, Miss Alekseyev."

"Ninel Mikhailevna," she corrected absently. She didn't want to know how he'd learned her real name. "What do you want with me?" she demanded before he could answer. "If this is about me botching the Morpheus job –"

Brown held up a hand, and she shut up. "We didn't expect you to succeed," he told her, throwing her for a loop. "And this is not about you."

Her eyes narrowed again. "Then what _is_ it about?"

"Them."

"The Smiths," Lezvie whispered.

Brown nodded. "They will find you eventually," he said, walking closer to her. "This place is not safe."

"And you're going to offer me sanctuary?" She doubted that, and it showed in her tone.

He looked thoughtful as he halted inches in front of her, forcing her to tilt her head back in order to see his face. "In a sense, yes."

She raised an eyebrow. "'In a sense'?"

He removed his sunglasses, revealing eyes as blue as her own. "I'm here to offer you a choice, Miss Alekseyev. You can stay here and wait to be assimilated into the Smith entity. From what I understand of your personality, however, I doubt you will find this an acceptable option."

"Never in a million years," she replied. "What's the other choice?"

"You can also… take a more direct way out than self-termination."

The voice was Brown's, but he hadn't spoken. Lezvie turned to her left and saw another Brown step into the fading daylight. Wide-eyed, she looked from one Brown to the other, then sank to the floor with a soft moan of fear, her back against the window. Both Browns watched her, then the one nearer to her knelt.

"You or him, huh?" Lezvie said softly, looking up at him. "Not much of a choice… but then, _he_ wouldn't have given me one." They both nodded, and she lowered her gaze, thinking. After a moment, her eyes met his in surrender. "Does it hurt?"

"Possibly not," the Brown said softly, sliding a hand into her hair. Her breath caught in her throat, then his lips were pressed against hers. She was aware of heat, then of utter cold emanating from both his hand and lips, running over her body like icy water, engulfing her –

The second Brown rose to his feet and helped the third up. "Persuasion is always better than force," one said. The others nodded.


End file.
